


Monday Coffee

by snapperonii



Category: Persona 4, persona - Fandom, persona 4 golden
Genre: Complete, M/M, essentially 'adachi is thirsty and its because he couldnt have coffee this morning', except its not a coffee shop au fic its just, mostly just about how adachi isnt actually That stupid, obligatory coffee fic, otherwise this is good to go to read, vague spoilers??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 03:23:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19220563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snapperonii/pseuds/snapperonii
Summary: If there was one thing Dojima was willing to give credit for it was that Adachi was typically able to get his coffee order right- not like it was that hard to do anyways. Just a regular cup of black coffee with only a delicate touch of milk.But of course it was Adachi brewing the coffee, and the man was far from perfect.----(shout out to @randomgeekelf on tumblr for throttling the concept of this at me a while ago i love you thank you for enabling my insanity)





	Monday Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> hi i've never written a persona fic before and i'm still getting used to character portrayals yeehaw

Despite his credentials back home in the city, Adachi had already garnered the reputation of a bumbling rookie at the office; his tie was always askew (if he even remembered to wear it), his hair was mopish, and he was typically late with the excuse of oversleeping or getting lost.

However, if there was one thing Dojima was willing to give credit for it was that Adachi was typically able to get his coffee order right- not like it was that hard to do anyways. Just a regular cup of black coffee with only a delicate touch of milk.

But of course it was _Adachi_ brewing the coffee, and the man was far from perfect.

Alongside with the occasional mix up for Adachi’s own cup, the only other flaw regarding a morning brew was timeliness: Dojima was quick to find out that Adachi’s attention barely maintained on the present task (he partially blamed the rambunctious activity of the city compared to the boonies if he was honest with himself). So whenever Adachi was a couple of minutes late, Dojima could only assume his partner got caught up chatting with a co-worker or finding sudden fascination with a plastic office plant.

Monday mornings seemed to be especially bad for Adachi, what with coming back to work after only a single day of rest; he was late to work that morning, his tie was crooked, and he went on to blabber about some new alleyway he found on the way there and the litter of cats he saw inside. But work was work, and Dojima was not in any particular mood to hear about Adachi’s new escapades in Inaba: during Adachi’s thirty-minute morning absence, Dojima had made an interesting breakthrough regarding a certain hit-and-run case that had been plaguing him for months now, and he needed Adachi’s full attention.

Even if he was an oaf and a bit scatterbrained, when Adachi was put to work he had his value. Most of the time.

As the duo made their way to Dojima’s office, Adachi shamelessly let out a loud yawn, stretching his arms overhead and wiping at his eyes.

“Are you done yet?” Dojima’s stern tone and the rattling of the office door knob snapped Adachi out of his mini daze, his somehow-even duller eyes lazily blinking back at his boss.

Adachi could only nervously chuckle and scratch at his head, looking down flustered. “Sorry, Dojima-san. I guess I’m still a bit tired.”

Dojima glanced at the clock- it was only half-past nine. He sighed and rubbed at his temples, hanging his jacket on his chair before shooing Adachi away. “Just go get us some coffee, Adachi. Hopefully it’ll pick you up a bit and you can be useful today.”

Again, all Adachi could do was awkwardly laugh with a “Sure thing, sir” trailing from his lips. With that simple request, Adachi left and Dojima was allowed to dig out aging files from the back of a cabinet.

 _And you can be useful today_ Adachi mocked, tapping impatiently at the coffee machine. I’m plenty useful…

Adachi was prepared to quietly rant to himself when the familiar smell of coffee began to fill the small room. As he picked up Dojima’s cup, he idly contemplated whether he should actually make it right to prove his usefulness, or disrupt it to spite him.

“Maybe he’ll finally appreciate the work I do around here,” he started, opening the fridge and reaching for the carton of milk. But as he uncapped it, he let his finger again tap against the opening. “Or maybe-“

Adachi’s mischief was interrupted by the to-be victim calling down the hallway. He was only gone for a minute right? Or had it been two…

He didn’t bother to think about it anymore. Instead he just hastily poured some milk in (maybe even a little too much, but could he really tell), grabbed the cups, and started making his way down the hall.

Dojima pressed his chin into his palm, his eyes glazing over documents and his own personal notes before him for perhaps the millionth time.

_At 3:52PM, Chisato’s body was found laying sideways on the road. The blood had been dry for approx. twenty minutes. After running a proper autopsy on the corpse, it was found that Chisato survived the initial impact, but due to lack of attention…_

He rubbed at his eyes as he glanced over the paper. These were the words he wrote on the case he fought hard to keep open. That didn’t mean it was any easier having to read the details of his wife’s manslaughter.

Had the office not implemented a new anti-smoking policy Dojima would have probably burned through a cig or two since opening the file, but rules were rules. At least until work was over, he would have to settle for coffee- if it ever got to him.

“Adachi!” He called again, standing up straight from his hunched position over the desk. He could just faintly hear Adachi announce himself alongside his footsteps as he turned the corner.

Stepping out from behind his desk, Dojima made his way to the door frame expecting Adachi to calmly walk in with drinks in hand, maybe then he would be able to refocus.

Of course that was the ideal situation, and Dojima learned that life was anything but ideal.

But no, instead Adachi ran right into him, his verbiage of apologies and excuses for being a little late utterly silenced as the drinks in hand crashed against Dojima, emptying both coffee cups and Dojima’s any hopes for a productive day.

At this point Dojima was feeling an explosion of emotions. For one thing, he was upset at the loss of his drink, the same drink now splattered all over his shirt and gradually dribbling its way down his body and onto the floor.

The glaring feeling however was indescribable agony as the coffee seared through the fabric of his clothes. Dojima fought with himself to refrain from beating Adachi right there, let alone cursing up a storm- he had already gotten one noise complaint for another incident involving the same bumbling detective in front of him and a heavy stack of urgent papers.

“Dojima-san! Ah shit, I really-“

“Just close the door,” Dojima gritted, already staggering his way to close his blinds. It was bad enough he would need to live with this embarrassment itself, but he didn’t need onlookers catching their senior detective suffering under the immense heat of coffee thanks to his careless partner.

After shutting the door, Adachi turned to face Dojima who had only just finished shutting out any more prying eyes into his room. “...So what’s the plan now?”

 _What now_ was a pretty good question to ask. It wasn’t like Dojima brought spare clothes to work, and trying to work with coffee sticking to him seemed agitating and unorthodox, if not sloppy: what was supposed to help him back into gear ended up only delaying his work schedule. “Go fetch some napkins from the break room. We can at least _try_ to clean up this mess.”

Adachi was quick to leave the room again, shutting it behind him.

It was far from what he expected from a typical dull work day, but Adachi also couldn’t deny he was reveling in it; Dojima’s constant berating and nagging was bound to cause him some misfortune (even if it would eventually come to bite Adachi in the ass later on, but _future_ Adachi could worry about that when the time came), and today’s accident would certainly satisfy that karma for now.

Retrieving lord-knows-how-many napkins, Adachi made his way back (once again) to Dojima’s office. The need to glance around to ensure no peepers were present was there, and when the coast was clear he slipped inside.

Re-entering the office, Dojima had removed his tie and was in the process of wringing it out. “Here, let me help sir. This _is_ kind of my fault.”

 _Kind of?_ was all Adachi could read from Dojima’s piercing glare. Shuffling his way around the cramped office, Adachi knelt in front of where Dojima sat in his chair.

“I wasn’t sure how much we’d need, so I just-“

“Shut up, Adachi and just…” Dojima trailed off as he gestured in defeat towards his shirt with one arm, the other carefully looking over his papers to ensure none had gotten stained.

With a quick “Oh, right” Adachi set to work to dabbing at Dojima with a clumsy hand full of napkins, the thin sheets of paper just barely removing the stains from his clothes.

Now, Adachi had been close to Dojima before whether it was making sure he didn’t fall over after a night of heavy drinking or just generally peering from behind his shoulder to examine the grisly scene of the week. But the circumstances here were different- much more different Adachi wasn’t sure he liked yet.

Instead of just holding him up or resting his head on his shoulder, Adachi had to be more touchy with Dojima’s body, the coffee stains already embedding itself deep into the fabric and undoubtedly drenching his skin. At least, for the most part, the coffee had cooled and instead of the blistering heat from earlier it was almost pleasantly warm.

Every now and then after Adachi would grab for a fresh batch of napkins, he would look up to see if Dojima had any particular reaction to his cleaning (one thing for sure was that Adachi was trying in earnest not to let his hand linger on any part for too long: he’d only ever touched the back of Dojima, the front was almost fun to explore even if just with a napkin), catching himself swallow nervously as he continued.

But Dojima just went back to work, only occasionally shifting under his partner’s touching. Adachi wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed at that.

An eternity seemed to pass before Adachi was confident most of the coffee was dried, unfortunately leaving a hideous fade on Dojima’s shirt. “I think that’s the best I can do, Dojima-san. Again, sorry about the whole thing.”/

Dojima seemed to only be vaguely paying attention as he stroked his chin, looking over a faded newspaper article. “It’s fine. Just help me look through these.”

Getting up from the floor, Adachi began to look over months-old evidence and reports. He would never say it aloud, but Adachi had little hope for any fruition of their work: the accident happened months ago and with barely any updates to the situation, catching a perp in a hit-and-run case was near impossible. But it was something to do, so he just indulged in Dojima’s investigation.

Looking over at the shirt again, Adachi wasn’t able to shake the feeling in his fingertips from Dojima’s cleanup. Incidentally, Adachi’s finger tapping was back, only on top of Dojima’s desk this time. It was odd, really. While Dojima’s figure wasn’t anything remarkable, he also wasn’t just skinny like Adachi was. Through the prodding from him earlier, Adachi couldn’t let himself ignore the firmness surprisingly found in Dojima’s upper torso and the subtle toned portions of his abdomen.

As Adachi looked back at Dojima’s face to affirm with himself he was engrossed in his personal project, Adachi couldn’t refrain an impish smirk from appearing on his lips before his usual lost-puppy look returned.

His heart beat against his chest as he cleared his throat, letting his perverse plan begin. “Oh, Dojima-san. I never got… I never got under your shirt.” Adachi swallowed before addressing the second half of his implication. What he was implying to do was an admittedly embarrassing request. However he didn’t want to give Dojima the impression he wanted to do anything but take the thing off and go back to work more thoroughly. “It’s one thing that you have to go throughout the workday with your _shirt_ ruined, but isn’t it kinda gross having coffee sticking to your _skin_ all day?”

Dojima swiveled towards Adachi, his eyes seemingly glued on one report in particular before diverting his attention back up to him. “I… Hm. I guess you got a point, Adachi.” It seemed to take Dojima a brief second to acknowledge his belief in Adachi for once as he rubbed the back of his neck, murmuring to himself in disbelief at the fact.

Honestly whether Dojima believed he was going insane or not, Adachi expected some type of protest. But how easily Dojima consented to a better cleaning was hardly something to complain about. “Alright, I’ll be right back! I just got to go get more napkins and a cup of water,” Adachi beamed. He might have been a little too excited to do this considering he jogged out the door and slammed it behind him, coming back in record time with a small cup of water and more napkins.

When Adachi returned Dojima had already undone half his shirt, resulting in Adachi nearly choking on his spit at seeing his boss’s chest exposed.

“Adachi, are you alright?” Dojima began to rise from his seat, intent on approaching Adachi. But the man in question just nodded and cleared his throat, excusing the cough away as a result from a dying cold and gesturing for Dojima to sit back in his seat.

After recovering from his ‘sudden coughing fit,’ Adachi returned to his position in front of Dojima and helped him remove the stubborn shirt as the coffee was persistent in clinging to his body.

As the shirt was finally cast to the side, a sigh of relief escaped Dojima. While he didn’t seem too fazed by their situation, Adachi could feel the tips of his ears blazing as he quietly studied and memorized Dojima’s body. He could feel his throat dry up as Dojima’s eyes were back on his, an odd mixture of annoyance and confusion reflecting back at Adachi.

“Adachi. The napkins?” Well there goes that part of the plan, but any more insistence on washing Dojima himself might be suspicious: Adachi would have his chance another day probably.

“Oh- right, right. Hah, sorry, sir.” It felt like Adachi had been apologizing all morning, but nevertheless he hesitantly handed Dojima the aforementioned napkins and the cup of water, neatly folding his hands in front of him afterwards. Honestly he was surprised it was still even there: he could have sworn he would have accidentally drank from it a while ago. “I’ll step out if you need a minute to wash up.”

Surprisingly Dojima just shook his head, carefully dipping a portion of the napkin into the small cup and starting to wash his chest. “You don’t need to do that; this isn’t going to take long.” He discarded the used napkin and repeated the cycle with a new one. “You’re free to just stand in the corner and look at that if you want to make this any less awkward.”

 _Oh no, Dojima-san. I’d love to watch you wash dried coffee off your body this morning- it would really make my day,_ Adachi sarcastically remarked to himself. Admittedly he did want to watch, but he couldn’t exactly let Dojima know that could he.

“Well, then I guess I’ll be going to my corner now.” He chirped, letting his eyes linger as long as he could before fully turning around. Even though Adachi had no more visual access to Dojima anymore, he at least had his imagination to keep himself occupied for the short time being… Actually, he quickly decided against that. He could save that for later when he was comfortably back home with no one to bother him, nor for the subject of his less-than-professional thoughts to be sitting right behind him.

While the last of the napkins and the now-empty cup were heard being tossed away, Adachi turned his attention away from a chip in the wall’s paint to face Dojima as he began to cover himself with his favorite black jacket. Funnily enough, this was the only time Adachi ever saw Dojima even wear it- it might as well have been an honor.

Brushing his suit jacket down, Dojima readjusted himself in his seat and began to shuffle papers around once more. “Now that _that’s_ settled, let’s actually do our job.” And just like that, with a curt nod from Adachi, their morning gradually morphed back to normal.

Well, not totally. The only exception to this ‘typical Monday morning’ was the lack of two hot cups of coffee on the desk, but the loss of a little extra energy was worth what Adachi got instead.

The disturbance in Adachi’s everyday mundane routine was short but more than he could ever ask for as he hunched over next to Dojima, beginning to review the Chisato Dojima reports and statements once more. Dojima began to brief Adachi on his latest findings, but Adachi just tuned him out as he occasionally stole glances at the opening in Dojima’s suit jacket.

Perhaps playing as the clumsy and incompetent detective had its perks after all.


End file.
